The year so far. Could try much harder.

The weather's been sunny but nothing particular happened during the first few days of the new year, so we went for various walks, such as along the shore at Cramond. 

It was difficult to take good photos on the phone because it was so bright - hard to show the intense blue of the sky without everything in the foreground looking in deep shadow. 

It would be a good place to walk with the grandchildren were Big Grandson not absolutely phobic about dogs. There are a lot of dogs in Edinburgh, and people with particularly big ones often bring them here to gallop along the prom. It's not the dogs' faults, but really it makes it very hard for the little chap. 

And I've been piecing the other bunk quilt, though am still quilting the first one. This one was mindless but time-consuming because of all the little bits. There's satisfaction in using up scraps, but really, who am I kidding? - I don't need to use the scraps. I'll never run out of fabric even if I never buy any more. And let's face it, I will buy more from time to time. 

I'm still to sew most of it together and add a border. 

And then something awful happened: out of the blue, one of my very best friends had a stroke. Which puts one's minor grumbles into very clear perspective. I've known her since we were 23 and started teaching together, have always met up with her and, especially since our retirement, we've seen a lot of each other. In fact, she belongs to two of my groups of friends: one from the secondary school where we were beginner teachers and one from the further education college where we later both taught. She was a very healthy person, who, with her husband, did long hikes and generally looked after herself. 

She can still talk - in fact we talked on the phone just today - her husband phoned me from her hospital ward. Her speech is a bit slurred but not too bad. But she's currently paralysed down her left side. It happened only five days ago so it's probably early days and I hope that she'll recover a lot, but I'm so sad for her. She's newly 72, which I know isn't young, but is also not very old. Her friends can't even visit at the moment, I assume because of Covid - she can only have one visitor for one hour a day. 

So that was a horrible start to 2022. As I've said before - unoriginally - carpe diem, gather ye rosebuds, etc. 

"They are not long, the days of wine and roses:

Out of a misty dream

Our paths emerge for a while, then close

Within a dream."

I've always been astonished that Ernest Dowson wrote this, since he died at the age of 32. It was clearly true for him. But it doesn't seem like a young man's outlook, does it? The poor chap had a bit of a rubbish life, though,  even before getting TB - father died, mother committed suicide and Ernest himself couldn't be said to have exactly looked after himself. 

Well, well, it's so nice, when one faces the inevitable sadness involved in getting older, to watch the young ones growing and getting stronger and more capable. Thank goodness for grandchildren and young people in general. The world goes on. Which is very good.